Johanna the Kid
by Connor J. Lockhart
Summary: An account of the 72nd Hunger Games from the eyes of Johanna Mason.
1. Prologue

The year is 55 A.D.D., and a storm hits Panem. Ten parts of the continent, including the Capitol, are severely damaged. The worst hit is District 7, the district of lumber. Ten thousand homes are destroyed and three-hundred thousand people die from drowning, electrocutions, or debris crashing into them. Two of the luckiest people are husband and wife Welsh immigrants Ewan and Gwyneth Mason, who happen to about to have a female child. They are currently in their home.

'Come on, Gwyneth!' Ewan shouts, 'We can make it through the storm and have a child! Don't die on me!'

'Stop patronising me, Ewan!' Gwyneth replies in pain, 'We could die from this!'

Gwyneth keeps pushing until the child comes out. She soon gives birth to the placenta soon after. Coincidentally, the storm calms down immediately after the child's birth. Gwyneth names her child Johanna after a Welsh legend she read about a child that becomes a great ruler after being born during a disastrous storm.

At Johanna's age of eight, in 63 A.D.D., her brother, Lewis, is born, but with autism, which means he has to be turned into an Avox, a person who has his/her tongue cut off after committing a crime and becomes a slave. The peacemakers come in and try to take Lewis. Johanna gets the kitchen knife and stabs the peacemaker on his left hand. Johanna and Lewis, as well as their parents, flee the house to go to the slums, where crime is surprisingly low. They are all treated like members of a big family for a while until 66 A.D.D. where Johanna is put up for the Reaping, which she was lucky enough not to be chosen for five years. But the legend Gwyneth read stated this:

"Five times from her eleventh year she will avoid the trial, but on the sixteenth year of her life, she will be involved in the trial, no matter what happens."

Why are you told this? The girl referred to as Johanna is me. I am Johanna Mason, and this how I went from a peasant to a victor to a rival to a helper to a hero...


	2. The Slummie

Today is a special day for the whole of Panem. It is September the Seventh Gormanian, also known as Reaping Day. That means the Hunger Games are due to start in a fortnight. I am dreaming I am in the arena. It looks like a sort of an abandoned version of the Capitol. Instead of humans as tributes, I see Starkhunds, muttations that resemble giant bulldogs. Their eyes are squarely locked on me with scythe-like teeth and hanging torrential tongues. The countdown finishes and suddenly my body freezes. All the Starkhunds run towards me and tear me apart. As only my torso and head remain, one Starkhund growls and it starts to sound like an alarm clock.

I wake up suddenly as the alarm clock rings. 'Agh!' I shout, 'I'm late for the Reaping!' I wash and style my brown spiky hair as I normally do, but I dress up in my district colours: Dark green and oak brown. I wear pants because it looks smart, unlike the dresses from other districts made just to look pretty. My brother, Lewis, comes in to see how I look.

'Wow, Johanna.' He says, looking at me in my Reaping wear, 'You look beautiful.'

'Well, you got to try to look your best when you live in the slums.' I reply.

I go downstairs and eat my breakfast: Salted moss, which doesn't taste as bad as you may think considering... well, it's moss that is salted. I live in Old Montana, a slum in District 7, which is next to the Capitol. We provide lumber. Lots and lots of lumber. As a result, the citizens know a lot about the environment, which should normally mean we won the Hunger Games multiple times. In reality, only Blight Curmudgeon, A.K.A. the district idiot, won them. That was only because the other tributes were stupid enough to wander into the forest of the Great Python. Blight basically won by dumb luck. Instead, the most wins go to Districts 1 and 2, thanks to bullcrap like academies designed to train Careers and being much richer than other districts. Other districts have respectable victors, like District 4's Mags Octrane, District 3's Beetee Latier, and even District 12's Haymitch Abernathy. My district? One of the weakest people on this continent.

My mother asks me what I feel about today.

'Kinda scared.' I answer, 'I am going to have 42 slips in the Reaping bowl. That make 42 packs of tessarae.'

'More chances of potential death, more packs of low quality bread.' My mother says in her sarcastic Welsh tone, 'Say, remember that legend I read to you when you were nothing more than a young child that I named you after?'

'Oh, yeah. "Johanna the Storm's Daughter."'

'In the legend, Johanna manages to avoid a great trial five times, like you managed to avoid being chosen for five straight years. Now that you are sixteen, you could be unlucky and be a tribute.'

'If I'm chosen as a tribute, I wouldn't mind unless I have to go against a Blight-level idiot, or worse, actually have to care for them.'

'That's not an attitude for a tribute.'

'You're right. Best to save my rage for the actual Games.'

My sister Ellie comes bursting in and I pick her up. Ellie came into my life on the year I was first viable to be in the Games. Unfortunately, when she was born, my dad died from a heart attack. Since then, I had the duty of raising my sister because this was at the bad time for my mother where she was drunk out of depression. I felt more like a mother rather than a sister.

'Hey, little scamp!' I say, 'You're gonna see your sister get nominated for a deadly annual event.'

'Johanna!' My mother shouts, 'That's inappropriate to say to your sister.'

'Hey, at least I took care of my sister rather than get myself drunk.'

'Fair point.'

'Come on, Ellie. Time to go!'

'Yay!' Ellie cheers.

'You should know I may not come back. Lewis isn't coming because autistic people can't participate in the Games in fear of being forced to become an Avox.'

'Well, why don't we go now?'

'Yeah, we should,'

Me, my mother, and Ellie get on our family horse Lorne and ride off to New Alaska, the capital city of District 7. We barely make it to the Reaping and the peacemaker takes a bit of my blood, along with my 42 tessarae slips. 'You're just in time, too.' The peacemaker says and we get in the crowd. The announcer, Effie Trinket, reads out the slip from the Male bowl.

'The male that will represent District 7 is... John Holden!'

John Holden and I have been rivals since I came into the slums. He brags that he is richer than us "slummies" as he calls us. In return, I keep on placing oats to distract his horse so I can sneak an eel inside his underwear and he squirms around. He knows it, but hasn't told me off ever. He isn't hot stuff as he keeps saying.

Effie continues: 'And the female that will represent District 7 is... Johanna Mason!'

Of course. Me and John walk up to the stage together, staring at each other with evil eyes.

'I bet I can beat you because you're a slummie.' He insultingly says.

'You know,' I reply, 'that mentality could kill you.'

John looks away from me after I say that, admitting defeat.

Effie raises both our hands with her gold poofy wig and mahogany dress. She then announces 'May the odds be forever in your favour!'

She escorts us to the train and we go on an hour-long journey due to Great Alaska being near the border of the Capitol. Effie is our waiter and she introduces us to Blight, who will be our mentor. I introduce myself to him and he acts surprisingly smart.

'Hey, fatface!' John snarkily sneers, which doesn't surprise me, 'Aren't you supposed to be stupid?'

'Hey, jerkbrain!' Blight replies, 'Shouldn't you be more respectful towards victors?'

'Blight,' I say politely, 'my name is Johanna, and this is John. Don't worry, he acts like this all the time at home. He calls me a slummie.'

'Nice to meet you, thought not him.'

'Hey! I'll tell my mother if I win!'

'That's a one in 24 chance, kid. I was lucky and smart enough to survive it.'

'Wait, weren't you acting...'

'Stupid? Yes. It was a façade I pulled so nobody went for me. Surprisingly, everyone else were complete idiots. They all went to the forest to hide, only to get consumed by the Great Python. What a bunch of morons.'

'Hey, John. Why don't you apologise to him?'

'Right. Sorry, Blight.'

'That's okay. I get called stupid a lot. Great actors can make great impressions. Oh look, there's the Capitol.'

The Capitol is within viewing distance. I breathe and say 'Well, welcome to what could be the last fortnight of our lives.' Indeed, this could be my last fourteen days of my own life...


	3. The Capitol

Here it is: the Capitol State of Panem. I always had mixed feelings for his place. On one hand, it is a gorgeous place and the food is said to be delicious. On the other hand the citizens are jerks and dress up like carnival rejects. Even the children are like that. If anything, they dress more ridiculously. Only those that are in power dress normally. Anyway, I digress. We get to the Tribute Train Station and take the route that immediately went to the Training Tower.

'There are thirteen floors, excluding the ground floor.' Effie explains, 'The floor above this one is the Training room where you will be tested and graded by the gamemakers. The twelve floors above that are resting above that floor are rooms for the tributes, two per floor, one floor per district. You will be on the eighth floor since you are from District 7.'

We get to the reception and both I and John get injected with trackers, which check you to see if you are dead or alive, mainly the former. Effie gets us in the elevator and we go to the eighth floor. We get a decent view of the CSoP as well as some luxuries. There are three beds: one for me, one for John, and one for Blight.

'Oh, look.' Effie says, 'The Avox has already set up the table for us to dine on our meals.'

'I have a question.' I ask, 'Who is going to escort the other tributes to the other tribute floors?'

'My identical dodeclets, all named Effie.'

'Effie came from a ridiculously rich family.' Blight says, 'They had enough resources to not only raise dodeclets, but pay equal attention to the children, all named Effie because their mother had ADD.'

'That's confusing.'

'One in a trillion chance, that was. My mother was very caring of us. It was sad when she died of Alzheimer's. Anyway, your meals.'

The poor Avox is acting polite, but I know he has to act polite because he could be executed for trying to express actual emotions because he is a slave. We sit down on the table and get served with Japanese spider crabs, sextuple chocolate cookies, dragon fruits... And no salted moss.

'Hey, Effie!' I say, 'Where is the salted moss? That tastes surprisingly good.'

'I didn't choose those dishes.' Effie replies, 'John did. The male tribute gets to choose the food.'

John, you conniver. I want to kill him for being like "ME, ME, ME!" and ignored what I eat. He probably did that because he thought "slummies" ate dirt, and hey, that's inedible, so "slummies" eat practically nothing! Ugh! I try the other stuff, but I am so used to salted moss that my taste buds became oversensitive, making things either too sweet, too salty, too sour, too bitter, or too meaty. I think I should be grateful because at least I'm not eating "slummie" food. Then again, different people, different tastes. The feast ends and Blight takes us to the television and shows us the competition we have to face.

Blight starts.

'These are Cariah Bradleigh and Kaleb Broom from District 1. Both are Careers, but had different classes. Kaleb is a swordsman whilst Cariah is an archer. They will compliment each other very well.'

Oh God. Careers. Careers are tributes from Districts 1, 2 and 4 that are trained in an academy designed to prepare for the Games. As a result, they normally get victory by taking up to slaughter all the other tributes and then fighting each other to the death. I think the only winner at this point from either of those districts that wasn't a Career was District 2's Enobarra Cuder six years ago, but that was because she ripped their throats out with her sharpened teeth. Speaking of District 2...

'These are Jennifer Stone and Carl Brixton from District 2. Strong sumbitches they are. They may provide the muscle for the Careers, especially Miss Stone over here.'

Mother of the gods! She's a teenager and has muscles like a bodybuilder.

'District 3's Ebony and Louis Locke are siblings and highly intelligent. Be warned, especially if there is electricity on the field.'

District 3 is known as the district of electric power, so I am not surprised that their tributes are smart as hell and may use electricity or even their thoughts as weaponry.

'The last Careers I want to mention are Sal Monelle and Ian Loxman. Great swimmers and scouts, they are. They are not that bright, though, and are dependent on other Careers.'

They'll probably be the easiest to take out so far, but we will see.

'District 5 has Lori Newton and Albert Bronson. They won't be easy to kill because they are swift.'

We'll try to avoid them, then.

'District 6 has Marina Udfish and Bjorn Ormsson. These are Swedish immigrants that are used to colder arenas and are masters of disguise.'

Sweden, along with the rest of Europe, survived the Great Flood of 992 B.D.D. due to them not suffering as much of an overpopulation problem as well as better flood protection. Europe became Great Scandinavia due to Sweden regaining power. Two people from a powerful continent can kinda be frightening.

'There is us from District 7, of course.'

Of course.

'District 8's Ginny Ross and Frank Lynne can make fabrics out of anything, even stone, so they can make armoured clothing.'

District 8 IS the district of textiles, so I am not surprised that they could use that to their advantage.

'District 9. Don't mess with them. They are absolutely crazy, especially Ronald Grainer and Dana DePrue. The district of grain can be nuts at times due to neglect from the Capitol.'

Yup. He is right. They even have their own nicknames: Crazies.

'The easiest to take out are District 10's Adam Marth and Kaylee Lewis. They have no exceptional qualities whatsoever.'

Best to take them out first, then.

'District 11's Abigail Carlson and Ahab Broone will make sure to ration their food to survive.'

Okay.

'Finally, we have Brandine June and James Cole. They come from District 12, the poorest district. They will have struggles with alliances because of the district's infamy.'

They seem kind. Maybe allying with them may help out with my plan of pretending to be weak.

'These are all the tributes participating in this year's Games. We got a whole fortnight to practice, so let's take advantage of it, starting tomorrow.'

We all go to bed and rest, saving our energy for practice.

In my dream, I see a woman with a bow and arrow and a braid in her brown hair. She is standing besides me like I am a friend of hers.

'Hey, Johanna.' She says, 'I haven't seen you in ages. Well, not since President Snow's downfall at least.'

President Snow? I know that he'll have to die for him to have his downfall.

'I'm sorry,' I say confused, 'but who are you again?'

'Come on, Johanna. It's me, Katniss.'

'Oh, hi... Katniss.'

'Hmmm... You look like a younger version of the Johanna I know. This must be an anomaly in time.'

'Wait, do you mean time travel actually exists?'

'Yeah. Since 84 A.D.D., actually. That also means that rips in time exist.'

'Okay, I'm out!'

'Wait! You're the woman who will prove time travel is possible.'

'What? Katniss, could you explai-'


	4. The Parade

I wake up abruptly as the alarm goes off. Even at the Capitol we have to have alarms. Today is the beginning of practice, starting with public practice. All the tributes are sent to the first floor where all the tributes meet each other whilst they train and learn other people's strengths and weaknesses. Blight escorts me and John to the first floor where there is a hall with two doors: one that leads to the lobby that leads to the Test Room, and one that leads the the Public Practice Room. We go in and so far only the District 10 tributes are there.

'Hey guys.' I say.

'Hello.' Adam says, 'I'm Adam, and this is Kaylee.'

'My name is Johanna, and this is John.'

'Hi...' Kaylee says nervously, fiddling with her fingers, 'I'm scared because I am a wimp.'

'I am easily scared.'

I think of what to say as a reply.

'I am a complete weakling. Carrying an axe is like trying to carry a giant stone crucifix on my back.'

I took Blight's route of acting the exact opposite of what I actually am.

'We can work together to form an alliance. Johanna looks weak, but I can tell she is gutsy. Kaylee, you could be the healer, trying to take care of the alliance we are forming. I, meanwhile, can be the lookout just in case of Careers and Crazies trying to kill us.'

Whoa. Only a few minutes in training and I have allies. Granted, one of them is a coward and one of them is a wimp, but they seem good enough for my plan.

'Shouldn't we be practising now?' I say.

'Why not?' Adam says, 'Come on, Kaylee.'

'Okay...' Kaylee says, 'Bye, Johanna.'

'Bye, Kaylee. Bye, Adam.'

They went to the Muttation Simulator, which helps people understand muttations and their tactics., whilst I go and try out the Axe training. To keep the illusion of weakness, I pretend to have trouble lifting the axe. Over time, the rest of the tributes arrive, with the Careers coming here last. All together, of course, because they are like that.

'Look, guys!' A voice behind me sneers, who turns out to be District 1's Kaleb Broom (Joy...), 'That woman can't lift a training axe. How humiliating!'

'I know!' District 2's Carl Brixton replies, 'Jennifer over here can lift a part of mountain and this so-called tribute can't carry a simple axe.'

'Stop saying what I am saying. All you are doing is using different wording.'

Kaleb smacks Carl because of that and I snicker. Jennifer pushes me aside and picks up the axe.

'See, runt?' Jennifer says, 'This is easy.' She throws the axe down and has the blade land next to my ear. 'Lucky girl.'

She laughs and helps me up. 'I won't even think of killing you until later.' She says, 'I only go for threats.' She retreats to the rest of the Careers when Kaleb looks at me and goes 'Hope you survive, wimp!' They go and train when Cariah Bradleigh looks back at me. I don't know why she just did that, but whatever. The District 4 Careers don't even notice me.


	5. The Interview

Well, I am now exhausted. The training took forever, even going through lunch hours. Now that I am back in my room, I can finally re-

'Attention!' The PA says suddenly, 'Tomorrow is the Saint Lionel Parade. Dress in your finest wear and you may be rewarded by the public at large.'

Oh, right, the Saint Lionel Parade. A parade set at the Seventh Hunger Games in honour of the fashionable Saint Lionel Parailles after his murder by Iain Everdeen. Iain was sentenced to death by dismemberment by horses. The horses, instead of ripping off his limbs, tore his entire body in half. The horses were used for the chariot of the first District 12 winner, Andre Hart, who died prescisely fifty years later.

I consult Blight.

'Hey, Blight.' I say, 'What should I wear in the parade?'

'Whatever your costume designer gives you, I suppose.' Blight replies, 'That's the thing with the parade: you can end up wearing a spectacle or the equivalent of a garbage can exploding. Good night, Johanna. Hope you and John look good tomorrow, because you could end up having a great advantage.'

I go to sleep saying goodnight to both Blight and John and I go into another dream. This time I'm in Wales, my parent's homeland. Holyhead, to be specific. My mother always used to talk about this place: here is one of the few areas remaining that used the AD year system. This is the day before I was conceived, 55 A.D.D., so here it is 4055. I hear my parents in a shack near the shore.

'So, Gwyneth,' my dad says, 'I guess this is the day where we should shag.'

'Ewan!' My mother says.

'I'm sorry, but we've been married for a decade and not once have YOU, of all people, wanted a child.'

'Having a child could wreck us.'

That was a bit pessimistic.

'But when we die, we could have an heir or two.'

'Alright then. It's not like we're important in any way, shape, or form.'

That was my indication to stop eavesdropping and leave. I cannot believe that my own parents were not considering a child before my conception. I decide to pinch myself and I wake up from my dream.

Today is the Saint Lionel Parade, so I have to look my best. I wash myself and apply makeup to my face, something I never did before. Man, this stuff feels cold. Me and John are escorted to the elevator where we get to the ground floor.

'The dressing room is this way.' Blight remarks. The room itself has twelve doors for each district with two doors in those room for the Male and female. I am in a room with lots of clothing and also a triad of designers. It all seems fine. Oh, they're looking at me with smiles. Okay.

'Hello, madam,' the dark-skinned woman with silver bouffant hair said, 'I'm Lewis. Halsey Lewis. I'll be in charge of designing your wear today. These two are my co-workers.'

'I'm Leela.' The woman with a half-mask and neon blue hair announced, 'I help with the textures of clothing.'

'And I'm Nero.' The olive-skinned curly-haired man with green mascara said, 'I'll be responsible for measuring you so you can fit into it perfectly fine.'

Well, they seem perfectly able to make a dress. Let's see how this goes.

Well, this looks neat. I got a dress that looks like stylised spruce bark, bark armlets, birch pauldrons, and a skirt made from mossy wood. It is surprisingly comfortable. Must be the moss on the inside. Halsey, Nero, and Leela admire their own work as they call me beautiful. I am escorted out of the building into the hall where the chariots are. John is in a birch suit with a "tie" that is literally just a strip of bark.

'Nice dress, slummie.' John says, making me wish that John would stop calling me "slummie."

'Thanks, buttstick.' I reply with the derogatory term for the rich.

We're on the chariot and it moves. Very fast. It feels like I am on top on a train. We are now in the plaza where the chariots are circling. I look at all of the other tributes' costume.

District One's costumes are hammy as hell. I get that they are supposed to be lavish, they are the district of luxury after all, but there are too many bows, ruffles, and laces to make it nothing more than an eyesore.

To be honest, District Two's costumes look alright. Moving on.

District Three is... odd. Their suits have circuits on them, but they flash random colours. I would hate being near that if I was a photosensitive epileptic.

District Four is also alright. Their wear have fake scales on them but I didn't think anyone else think that. Expert craftsmanship on their part.

District Five look like they're wear those cones you put on the necks of dogs. Nice to know that it hasn't changed since Zak Manning won for District Five... At the twentieth Hunger Games, or so I heard.

District Six look like weird human-vehicle hybrids, but not like Transformers. Yeah, I have no hope for them.

At my left, District Eight look nice. Not surprising, because they are the district of textiles.

District Nine are also alright. Moving on again.

What is it with District Ten's obsession with wearing cowboy costumes? Literally NOBODY from this district won the Games since they started doing this stupid thing at the 51st Hunger Games. Gee, I can't imagine why!

District Eleven have a grainy look to them, also unsurprising since they are the guys who do the agriculture. Not terrible, but not standout either.

And finally, District Twel-Aaagh! Nudes! Nudes covered in a very thin layer of coal dust and wearing only a miner's helmet! Why!? Nobody likes seeing private parts in public, SO WHY DID THEIR COSTUME DESIGNER THINK THAT NUDITY IS MARKETABLE NOWADAYS!?

Well, that was all of my opposition's wear. What a mixed bag. District Eight gets the most cheers, but my district wasn't far behind. Obviously, District Twelve basically got the shaft. I don't expect them to survive. At all.

~ONE HOUR LATER~

I get back to my floor in the tower and Blight congratulates me and John.

'Johanna! John!' Blight yells with joy, 'You were great out there! You must have had good designers.'

'Sure we did.' John says, 'They made the slummie fashionable.'

I seriously want to kick him in the teeth, but I don't want to get in trouble off of Blight.

'John! Don't call Johanna a slummie!'

'You're right. I shouldn't have said that about her.'

'It's fine.' I say, trying to keep calm, 'I have been called much worse.' I haven't.

'Well, we need to rest. We got a while to train for the Games, but tomorrow is your interview with Caesar Flickerman.'

I remember watching the news with my father six years before he died. It was Gormanuary the 24th Gormanian in 60 A.D.D., and Andre Hart, the first victor from District Twelve, died from eye cancer. The whole nation mourned his death, as he was basically the first great victor of the Games. Caesar Flickerman was the reporter. He was smartly spoken and respectful, unlike many, MANY reporters at the time. The next day, President Snow made him the interviewer for the 61st Hunger Games, and ever since then, he has become the face of the Hunger Games.

I said goodnight to John and Blight and go to bed again. I am kinda worried about tonight's dream, considering the other dreams I have had.


	6. The Judgement

I had a surprisingly normal night last night. I wake up less grumpy and more energetic for the interview today.

Today I get interviewed by reporter-turned-host Caesar Flickerman. If the interview goes well, I may or may not have a chance of victory. Who knows? The Games are as predictable as the weather. My interview dress resembles a tree. They even have arm bangles that resemble vines.

I am at the backstage of the place where the interview takes place. Before me, since females come first, it is Bradleigh, then Broom, then Stone, the Brixton, then so on and so forth.

I hear Caesar call me after a few hours.

'Ladies and gentlemen, from District Seven, Johanna Mason!'

I walk into the interview area in front of a cheering crowd and sit on the seat next to Caesar's. We greet each other with a handshake and he begins to talk to me in his typical manner.

'Hello, Johanna.'

'Hey, Caesar.' I say.

'Now, what do you think of your chances at the Games?'

'Minimal. I am not strong nor all that intelligent.'

'You do have that charm, though.'

'True. I came from the slums, you know.'

'Oh. I heard that they eat moss that is salted.'

'Yes, we do. It tastes nice. You should try it sometime.'

'Thanks for the recommendation. Anyway, what will be your strategy?'

'To be honest, I don't know. Hey, I remember when I was watching you on television as a reporter.'

'Wait, that was eleven years ago.'

'Well, when someone as important as Andre Hart dies and when someone like you reports about it, it is going to be remembered and respected for the rest of the viewer's life.'

'Thanks for that.'

'No biggie.'

We keep talking for the rest of the interview time and we say farewell to each other.

'Oh, by the way, Johanna,' Caesar says before I exit, 'I told this to the other tributes before you, but the prep time, including today, has been shortened to a week as of this year.'

'Oh... Well, thanks.'

I leave the set and go back to the Training Tower where Blight is waiting.

'Johanna-' he starts.

'No time, Blight. I gotta train. Now.'

'Oh, you know.'

'Yeah, I do know. Now, let me go to the training room.'

I get to the training room. Nobody's here. Good. Now to train until each muscle tears apart.

-Eight Hours Later-

I am currently lying down on the floor in exhaustion and pain. My muscles are cramping and I am surrounded by a puddle of sweat. I saw other tributes pass me by during the hour of painfulness I am currently in. I hear someone come in. It is Blight.

'So, Johanna,' Blight says, 'what was it about how you gotta train now?'

'I managed seven hours, mostly by myself.'

'Here. I'll help you get up.'

Blight helps me up and walks me back to my room.

'Do you realise what you just did?' He says.

'What?' I ask.

'You increased your metabolism.'

'So? Is that a good thing?'

'Far from it. You need to carbo load to lower it. Now.'

We get back to my room, I eat to the point of gaining around ten pounds, and I go to bed. I'm just so tired and exhausted. A night's sleep should help.

I am in another dream, this time it is 297 B.D.D. and I am witnessing the day Panem was truly born: when North America fused with Asia. There are people waiting on the other side for said continents to fuse together. When it happens, the people celebrate. I know the history: the people go past the border and end up becoming the ancestors of what the citizens of Panem are today.

This dream doesn't show that. Instead, a warhead is launched and aimed right where I'm standing. The warhead is about to hit me.

Agh! Another nightmare. Just what I need. I need to eat, train, carbo load, and sleep for the next three days. I hope I don't die of exhaustion.

-Three Days Later-

Today is the last day before the Games: the Impression Score Day. The tributes go into a room one at a time and do their specialised talent. After two minutes, the Gamemakers, who the tributes are performing for, score them from one to twelve. Nobody at this moment in time has gotten a perfect score from what I have heard so far.

Again, it goes from district to district, but the females go after the males rather than before. I am waiting at the Waiting Box since I am fourteenth, but thankfully since the tests are so short, I only have to wait for half an hour.

-One Half-hour Later-

My name is called and I go in the room. There is an axe on a table and on my right there are the gamemakers, the minds who control the Games.

I pick it up, but I intentionally struggle to pick it up to keep the façade up. The gamemakers are laughing at how pathetic I look, and all I did so far was pick it up. I can tell I am going to get low score already. The Careers will avoid me like a plague since they tend to go for players with higher scores.

I see a log and I attempt to hack it in half. I pretend to fail. And then...

"KZRRRRT!"

The alarm goes off, indicating that time is up. I think I did pretty well in being pretty terrible.

I go back to my tribute room and John is smug as normal.

"Look!" John says in his sneering tone, "It's the slummie who can't win because she's a wimp."

"You do know I was acting, right?" I reply.

"Oh."

We sit on our sofas and wait for the score to come up on the television. John gets a 10 and I get a 1. John is doomed. I know it because watching all previous Games in my life, the non-careers with the highest scores are normally the first to die.

Now we do our normal routine until it is time to go to the games: east, train, carbo load, and sleep. Let's see what happens when we get to the games.


	7. Interlude

It is just hours before the Games. I prep up and get ready. Me and John are escorted by Blight to the elevators and we wait for the Games to start.

The lift goes up and we see our arena. It resembles the one in my dream.

A timer counting down from 60 is displayed on the Cornucopia in the middle of the arena. I wait with anticipation... But I turn in a direction far away from the Cornucopia.

The timer is now at the last ten seconds.

10.  
9.  
8.  
7.  
What if I end up being the one who dies first?  
6.  
5.  
4.  
Where do I go after the alarm goes? The dilapidated city hall or the wrecked shops?  
3.  
2.  
I tense myself up.  
1.  
I bend my knees and look forward. Who knows if I will live?


	8. The Games Begin

The alarm goes off. I run as fast as I can into the dilapidated hall whilst practically everyone else run towards the Cornucopia. Fools, the lot of them. I get to the top floor to get a good view of what is going on, and I am seeing a massacre over who gets what. The Careers are benefiting from this, getting kills left and right. Eight cannons go off during this massacre.

I look around for supplies on this floor and I find some berries, most likely nightlock, a pocket knife, some medicine... And an axe. Whoa. I did NOT expect to find my weapon of choice in here.

Now to find a hiding place. The mantelpiece? No, too obvious. The wardrobe? Eh, I'm small enough to fit it I get rid of my items, which I won't. The chimney? I would like to breathe, thanks.

Wait a minute. The carpet is dipping a bit. I'll look there.

Whoa. Apparently there is a small room here. I get all my things in.

This is a good hiding place, but the carpet dipping makes it too obvious. I end up finding a board. Perfect. I make a hole in it with my knife, so air can be brought in, and then put it above the hole. I can tell that the carpet is staying up. I think I am safe for now.

'Hey," a voice comes in, 'I saw that wunner go in here.' It's Jennifer Stone of District 2.

Crap. Careers have come here.

'Jennifer,' another voice chimed, 'wunners are not worth it for now. Let's go somewhere else.' That was Cariah Bradleigh of District One.

'Carrie, I don't kill wunners. I told you I don't kill wunners earlier.'

'The boys do. They tend to- hold on a moment.'

I hear someone getting stabbed and fall on the board, cracking it a bit.

'Damn District Twelve people. Complete rushers.'

'Wait.'

Crap.

'The carpet is starting to dip.'

Crap!

'Well, Jennifer, let's look to see what's under there.'

CRAP! I'm screwed!

I see the carpet being moved.

'Looky looky!' Jennifer proclaims, 'A board with a hole in it.'

'The hole looks new.' Cariah responds, 'I think someone just carved it.'

They lift the board up. I am now tensing up in the corner of this cubby hole. Jennifer's head peeks down.

'Look!' She says, 'There's the wunner!'

Well, I am going to be dead. Although, I did hear Jennifer say she doesn't kill wunners.

She comes in through the hole. Cariah follows.

'Hey,' Cariah says, looking at me, 'you were that person that wimped out in training and got a score of one!'

'Yes,' I reply sheepishly, 'that was me.'

'You know,' Jennifer says, 'I admire your smarts, running away from the Cornucopia.'

'Oh, no. I was just petrified. Adrenaline kicked in.'

'That tends to happen with wunners like you. That is why we are not killing you right now.'

'Oh, okay. My name is Mason, by the way. Johanna Mason.'

'We know. We were shown that by our hundreds of mentors back at the tower.'

'And youse are Cariah and Jennifer, right?'

'Yup.' Cariah chimes in.

'I think we got ourselves a little alliance.'

Well, holy hot damn. I'm in an alliance.

We start to strategize.

'Jennifer,' Cariah says, 'you can go outside the hall and guard the entrance.' Cariah looks at me, 'Johanna, you stay put. If anyone comes into this cubby hole, stab them in the neck.'

'What about you, Cariah?' I ask.

'I'll forage for fruit and meat. If I encounter nightlock berries, I will use the poison as a weapon. Either that, or use them as a trap for others to eat.'

She is a madwoman, but I like her moxie. At this point, Cariah and Jennifer still don't know this is an act.

We all agree on the plan and both Jennifer and Cariah leave the hole. I stay behind and pull out my knife. Wunners are actually known for killing via a trap.

Now to just sit here and-

Boom!

The hell? Someone died as soon as Cariah and Jennifer left. I hear footsteps coming into the room. It is the male Careers.

'I could have sworn those traitors were here.' One of them says, 'Why they didn't assist us in the bloodbath is beyond me.'

'They were chasing after this wunner,' the other one says, 'I thought they killed her.'

'Let's look for the wunner, and kill her.'

'There's a hole here. Let's go in!'

They both peek down the hole, stupid boys, and I stab them both in the neck. Oops for them.

Boom! Boom!

Two cannons. My first two kills are in this hole. Twelve people are dead so far: The people in the bloodbath, the person who fell on the board that covered the cubby hole, the two Careers who peeked in the hole, and either Jennifer or Cariah.

I hear running footsteps. It's Cariah.

'Plan B,' Cariah says, 'escape!'

'But what about Jennifer?'

'She's dead. No time to mourn. We weren't together for long. RUN!'

We run as fast as we can going down the stairway. We pass Jennifer's bloody corpse and we make sure we get out alive.

Almost there. I see the doorway.

We're out! All of that took place in a few minutes. We are running away from the hall as fast as we can and go to the market. I bring my axe with me to defend myself.

Time to find somewhere else to roost.


	9. The Run

We have escaped the urban part of the Capitol and are now in the more rural area of the arena. This seems like a quaint little area to squat in until the gamemakers eventually send some mutts to attempt to eviscerate us and forcing us to leave this place to somewhere else.

'This is a nice little hut, don't you think?' Cariah asked.

'It is,' I reply, 'but I know that we can't be here forever. We'll probably be lunch by mutts or be killed by whatever crap the gamemakers think up.'

'You're right. That's why we are only going to be in here for a short amount of time. We need supplies.'

'I have nightlock.'

'You know, nightlock is only poisonous if raw. Cooking it will boil the poison, this making it edible.'

'Where did you learn this from?'

'My dear old mother. She gave me them as a dish when I was a child. A few years later, my mother told me how to cook, including nightlock. We just need a pan, some water and some firewood. I'll be sure to leave some raw for tributes who mistake then for blueberries.'

'That's a good idea, actually.'

'No big deal for me. Oh, I didn't volunteer for the Games, by the way.'

'What? You're a Career.'

'Career!' She spat on the floor, 'I hate that word. Pretentious bullying pricks, the lot of them. They think they are such hot stuff and it annoys me.'

That will get on the gamemakers' backside. They think all people from Districts 1, 2, and 4 are all Careers and support the term. Except for Finnick O'Dair. He is basically the adorable little panda of District 4.

We get the supplies we need and hike until night comes.

"BOOM!"

A cannon just went off.

'Look at that.' Cariah says, 'A thirteenth tribute just bit the dust. In one day, no less. Crazy.'

It is crazy. Thirteen guys just died today, with eight being massacred at the Cornucopia. Ridiculous.

'Hey,' I say to Cariah, 'why are you not a Career?'

'Well,' she replies, 'I'll tell you.

'I was put in the Academiae Perfectionis at the age of eleven. I was only in the academy for a year, but I learned a lot from the experience. My twin sister is currently in the academy as we speak. Anyway, whilst I learned in the academy, the conditions were awful. The teachers were abusive, the building was taken care as well as a cancerous rat, and I have seen many a fellow student die during training. I ran away into the woods after my year was up, and I managed to live by myself for five years until I volunteered out of nowhere this year.

'I was taken to the tower along with Kaleb and went into training. That was when I met you. I felt pity for you. You were struggling to train, which reminded me of when I first started out in the Academiae Perfectionis: a weak mewling child.

'One day, me and Jennifer talked to each other about you whilst you were running on the treadmill and practically bleeding sweat. Jennifer said the other Careers were assholes to her. Even the female District 4 Career. Don't believe everything that is seen on television. It tends to lie. Not all Career squads get along. In fact, there was no squad during the 64th Hunger Games. They all killed each other whilst being the last tributes left, making that year's Games the only one with no winner. Anyway, me and Jennifer became bonded and promised to be with each other when we got into the arena.

'When the alarm went off, we immediately followed you into the fake hall. We took longer than you because we had to more our way through the hell that was the Cornucopia massacre. We didn't know where you were in the building at the time, so we looked everywhere in the hall. We then found the cubby hole after stabbing a Crazy, and then we found you. As you know, Jennifer was killed by two of the male Careers. I barely made it out alive.'

Cariah shows me a scar on her stomach.

'One of them stabbed me in the gut. I could have died, but luckily I managed to press the wound to stop me bleeding out. I waited for a moment until they were killed by you. I am thankful for that. Now, let's keep hiking.'

Wow, that's sad. Who would think she had it tough, like I had? I don't even want to know what it was like being a twelve year old having to live in a-

'Dodge!' Cariah yells and then pushes me out of the way.

An arrow flies by. There is someone shooting at us. We keep running around the forest border until the person stops shooting at us. Christo! It is as if we are facing off against... whoa.

'Cariah,' I say, 'I think we're going against a Crazy with a bow.'

'Of course we are.' she replies, 'Who else would shoot at that rate. I think he, or she, is gone now. The person must be out of arrows.'

'Hold on,' I see through the brush to see the Crazy stalking us, 'we're being stalked.'

Now is the time to attempt to hide. Either that, or charge at him or her and break my character, thus making me public enemy number one. Hiding is best.

We both hide in the nearby bush. We seem to be doing fine, because we haven't been shot at for a while. We need to sleep.

'Should we make this our bed tonight?' I ask.

'Why not?' Cariah replies, 'We may be in a stalemate.'

The anthem of the Capitol is playing and a slideshow of the deceased comes up.

The deceased are the male tributes from Districts 1, 2, 4, 8, 9, 10, and 12, and the female tributes from Districts 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, and 12.

Holy crap. Cariah is literally the last Career in this Game. And she doesn't even consider herself as a Career. Also, Districts 8 and 12 are gone from this one. How horrid.

Now we can go to sle-

"Boom!"

Damn it! Another person just died. Maybe it's the Crazy who shot at us. Now we can sleep. Jezebel!


	10. The Next Day

I am in a dream again. This is a forest excreting blood instead of sap. I am also losing my teeth at a ridiculous rate. This is a horrible dream. I want to wake up!

Gods, it's getting worse! Starkhunds are crawling out of the trees and chasing me. I'm getting slower whilst they are getting faster. I'm going to die!

Agh! Awake again. Cariah has gone from the bush, so I peek out. She's cooking the nightlock from yesterday, with a corpse, no less.

'Hi, Johanna,' she says, 'want to dine with this chap? He is the Crazy who tried to kill us.'

'Oh, Volneon!' I yell and puke in the bush, 'What the HELL did you do to him?!'

'Stabbed him in the neck during the night after sneaking to where he was and removing his tracker.'

So THAT'S why I wasn't woken up in the night from a cannon.

'How did you rid him off the tracker?' I ask, possibly regretting that.

'I sliced open his upper arm and took it out with my bare hands.' Cariah replies.

Yup. I regret asking. I end up puking in the bush again, feeling worse than before.

'Now,' Cariah says, 'let's replant the tracker.'

Cariah forces the tracker back in the dry but gaping wound.

Boom!

The cannon I was supposed to hear from last night finally goes off.

I eat the cooked nightlock berries she made, which actually taste sweet, and then we hike once again. We go the opposite direction we were going before, returning to the city.

'There is only ten tributes left, you know, including us.' Cariah says with a smile, 'Our chances of survival are rising.'

'Well, yeah,' I reply, 'but there are still eight other people alive in this arena. The city may not be as safe as we think.'

'At least there is no bloodbath.'

'True, but look over there.'

I point to two tributes fighting. One of them is an aggressive fighter armed with twin knives obviously taken from somebody else, a Crazy, I think, and... John?

John uses his axe to cut off the Crazy's arms and then her head. Boom!

'Well, look who we have here!' He yells, 'it's the slummie who ran away from the Cornucopia like the wuss that she is.'

'I was afraid, okay?' I reply, trying to keep up my persona.

'Oh look, you have a Career as your partner. Maybe she's so crap that the other Careers disowned her. I'm surprised she's still alive.

'Now I know why you hate him.' Cariah whispers into my ear, 'What a dick.'

'Anyway, there are six other people left in this arena. Can I be an ally to help you with surviving?'

'How about no, John?'

'What, it's not like the slummie going to do anythi-'

I behead him with my axe. He was being a dickweed.

'What the hell, Johanna!?' Cariah says in shock.

'Well,' I reply, 'looks like my cover is blown.'


	11. The Final Fight of the Games

A cannon goes off, signifying John's death.

'How was I the fool?' Cariah said in confusion.

'Glad you asked.' I reply, 'Seeing all the Hunger Games I grew up with, I noticed that the best victors faked their persona. My mentor, for example, is a smart man, even an influence, though his fake persona was that of a froth-in-the-mouth, mindless, ignorant chode. I deliberately performed badly in both practice and judging so that nobody would come for me. To be honest, I didn't expect you or Jennifer to give sympathy towards me. In fact, I didn't expect to last as long as I did.'

'But why?'

I point to the sky, which is actually a dome filled with cameras that covers the arena and say "Them, Cariah. They are why. This is a reality show. A reality show of massacres, monsters, and fear, but a reality show no less. Now that you, and the rest of this nation, barring the other five tributes still alive, know of what I am truly doing, why not just work together until the end?'

Cariah looks like she is going through a hard decision.

'Sure,' she says, 'why the hell not? We made it this far, now let's own this thing until we have to fight each oth-'

Three cannons go off. Three more deaths. These shouldn't go by so fast past the bloodbath.

'Cariah,' I say, 'arm up.'

I bring up my axe. Cariah brings up her knife.

Two more cannons go off. We're the last two remaining.

All of a sudden, a horde of Starkhunds appear from the city. We keep fighting off the massive horde of fifty looking enough to survive the encounter, but not unscathed.

I now have long slash marks on my left arm and torso, a puncture wound on my right foot from a tooth, and am bruised in multiple areas.

Cariah seems to have sustained multiple slash marks on her face and right arm, a few broken bones, and the loss of her right eye, partially blinding her.

We look at each other, and then throw our weapons to the ground. We stand back and put up our fists.

'Shall we?' I say, exhausted.

'Why the hell not?' Cariah replies.

We charge at each other with the remaining strength we have. We wrestle each other and beat each other up. I swear I am nearing a blackout, as I fall to the ground.

I see Cariah go to the axe I had thrown to the ground. She is going to try to behead me whilst I am down. I close my eyes, preparing for Death to come to me. This is it.

I have visions of my father near me. I can hear his voice.

'Johanna!' he says in joy.

'Father!' I reply, running towards him in tears, 'I've missed you!'

'Don't get used to this, my little buttercup. I am no more than a vision. I have come here to say you should never give up, no matter what. Especially not now.'

'How? I am beaten to the point to death. I want to die so I can be with you.'

'Did I give up on you or your family when I was dying?'

'No, you didn't.'

'It I didn't give up before I died, neither should you. Do you want to die?'

I open my eyes just add Cariah is about to swing what was my axe.

'Not today.'

I roll out of the way of the axe. Cariah is struggling to her the out of the ground. Perfect!

I get Cariah's knife off of the ground and run towards her. I jump and then plunge the dagger into the back of her neck.

'Boom!' The cannon goes.

I can't believe it. I won. I'm the first female from District Seven to win the Hunger Games! I am thoroughly amazed that I survived this experience! My mother will be proud of me when I go back to District Seven.

The dome that surrounds the arena suddenly begins to fold back and an aircraft comes into the arena to pick me up. It lands next to me on the field, the doors opening. Snow is appearing from the doors.

'Congratulations, Johanna!' he says with joy, 'You are this year's victor! Look up and wave!'

I wave at the dome.

'Ladies and gentlemen, from District Seven, your victor of this year, Johanna Mason! Come with me.'

I follow Snow into the aircraft and buckle up. We begin to take off and we eventually land in at my home in District Seven. I hug my mother and my siblings, who are obviously happy to see me alive.

'May the odds be forever in your favor in the future, Johanna.' Snow says, 'I do hope your future is bright and devoid of obstacles.' He gave me some keys. 'Here are the keys to your new home in the Village of Victors.'

I am conflicted. On one hand, I am glad I'll no longer be in a hellhole. On the other hand, I became used to the slums and grew to become a kinder souls because of them. My mother thinks differently.

'Sweet merciful Volneon! Thank you, president!' she says with glee inside, 'We can finally leave the slums and eat real food! Not that salted moss is disgusting, but it's just salt on moss.'

Snow crouches down to talk to Lewis. 'And you must be Lewis. I heard that you have autism. Is that true?' Lewis nods. 'Well then, normally the law states that you should be an Avox, but that will change.'

Snow stands back up.

'Well,' Snow says, looking at us all, 'this is my farewell for now. Johanna, expect to see me again next year. You will have the special job as a Mentor. You will teach future tributes how to fight. They could even win, but I'm digressing. So long, all of you.'

He goes back in the hovercraft an it takes off, with Snow waving as he leaves.

'Well,' my mother says, 'we can finally be happy together.'

'Yeah.' I say with a smile, 'For now, at least.'


	12. Epilogue

As of this point, I am now living a good life in the Victor's Village. My mother is no longer drinking and is acting like an actual mother again, autism is no longer a crime, and Blight, our new neighbour, has been a good friend of the family. I have just done my tour around Panem, and I felt better and worse about myself. I feel better because my confidence has gotten better and I have become well-known across Panem. I feel worse because I had lied to get to the top, and I killed a temporary friend in the Arena.

On the brighter side, a few months later, I'll be a mentor. I'll be able to train my own future tributes and they might even be victors themselves. Blight will also be with me to give me advice on how to be a good mentor, maybe even becoming one of the best. Who knows? Certainly not me.

I don't know if my future will be bright or not. I am just so goddamn happy that I am still alive and that my family is now getting along with each other. That has never happened before in my life. Maybe being a Victor was the best thing to happen to me. Or maybe not. Again who knows?


End file.
